Sapphire Blue
by Neptune Scar
Summary: Makoto always knew that, one day, Haru would return to the ocean. {Based on Selkie folklore} [Makoharu] [Yaoi] [AU]


**Title:** Sapphire Blue

**Author:** Neptune Scar

**Pairing:** Makoharu (Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto)

**Rating:** R

**Type:** Oneshot

**Genre:** Drama/Romance

**Summary: **Makoto always knew that, one day, Haru would return to the ocean.

**Author's Notes:** Slight AU. Based on Selkie folklore.

* * *

Makoto always knew that, one day, Haru would return to the ocean.

As his feet venture onward into Haru's house that morning, he becomes unnervingly aware of the sound of his footsteps. With nothing, with no one, to capture them, they echo about eerily. It's an unwelcome noise, and Makoto winces as the sounds bounce off of the aged wooden walls, growing louder with each passing footstep, as if to mock him. It is half-past-seven, and the air is stale and reeks of remnants. Without the solid presence of another body, the place feels so dreadfully empty.

He sighs to himself – and it shatters him, shakes him right down to his very core. His schoolbag slips from his shoulder, and he can't help but to let it fall to the ground – yet another echo – and rumple into a pile at his feet.

He didn't want to believe it.

The young man rakes an agitated hand through his sandy brown hair and looks, helplessly, through an adjacent window. Perhaps if he looked hard enough, he might see Haru walking up the path, and then—

Makoto let out a low growl, and he feels it rumble, unearthing itself at the base of his chest. Frustrated, he tears his gaze away from the window and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, cursing himself for even thinking such a thing. There was no use for it now. He knew, better than anyone, that you cannot stop the tide.

And, oh, how Haru loved the water. A bitter smirk encroaches upon Makoto's lips, and he shakes his head at the thought. He feels foolish, now, for believing that Haru could ever love anything else quite so much – that he could ever love him.

His heart belonged to the ocean.

He remembers the day that they had first met, as clear as the sky that hung overhead. The memory tingles gently across his skin, and he closes his eyes for a moment, drinking in the warmth from the sun that afternoon. He and his family were out at the beach, and there wasn't a single cloud in sight. Luckily for Makoto, the sun was also just as bright and happy as he was. The boy was only two weeks shy of his tenth birthday, and he couldn't have asked for a better afternoon to end his summer vacation.

He could have, however, done with a better sandcastle-building partner.

"No, Ran!" He chided his baby brother, who had done a miraculous job of smashing their newly-built fort into the ground. "If you keep destroying the fort, how are we supposed to protect the castle?"

But little Ran was so blissfully unaware of the impending urgency, and he simply looked upon his handiwork with a wide-toothed grin. Without warning, he erupted in a fit of playful giggles and began making a mess of what was left of the fort, causing sand to fly about, carelessly.

Makoto sighed in defeat and looked with pity upon his demolished fort. "It's not like you can help, anyway," the boy stated in a sour tone, as he felt his arm being pelted with sand. "You're only two-and-a-half."

"Makoto-chan, I hope you two are playing nice!" their mother called from her spot, several feet away from them, underneath their large beach umbrella, perched and poised atop the sand. She was massaging sunscreen lotion onto her husband's back, and she didn't even have to look up to know that her two sons were, most likely, arguing again. Ironically, though, only one of them could really talk. She then looked over to her third child – Ran's twin sister, Ren – who sat next to her, amusing herself with a small toy bucket and shovel. Thankfully, the little girl thought it best to keep out of her brothers' mischief.

"We are, Mom!" Makoto called back, as he worked diligently to salvage what was left of the castle's fort. "I'm trying to teach Ran the meaning of the word, 'reinforcement'."

"Sweetheart, he's only two-and-a-half."

"I'm preparing him for life, Mom!"

After overhearing that statement, their father let out a hearty chuckle. "How about you leave that to us, hmm?" He suggested to his son, as his wife shook her head, a laugh at the edge of her mouth, and tossed the bottle of sunscreen lotion back into their tote bag.

The boy simply shrugged in response, mouthing out an "If you insist" before getting back to work on his fort, focused and determined on the task at hand. He reached his arms as far out in front of him as he could then dug his fingers into the sand. Needing to collect as much of it as possible, he pulled back and raked it in, hurriedly scraping up the displaced sand that had slipped from his grasp along the way.

Makoto's baby brother looked upon the older boy's actions in wonder, his attention having left his flattened part of the fort a mere moment ago. He watched as his big brother attempted to form yet another ball in his hands – only to have it crumble between his palms. Makoto frowned.

"You know..."

Makoto looked up to see his mother standing over him, her long hair tied up into a messy bun. In her left hand, she held a small blue bucket. She smiled down at her son before crouching down beside him and playfully ruffling his sandy-coloured hair, being sure to flick out some extra clumps of sand that had gotten stuck. "If you add a bit of water to the sand," she continued, as she set down the bucket, "it'll help it hold together better. It won't be as crumbly."

The boy cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow in a curious manner. "Water?"

"Mhmm," she nodded with a smile. Just then, Makoto watched as his mother swiftly turned her head towards his baby brother with a snap of her neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly reached out and grabbed him, scooping him up into her arms, just before he was about to eat a handful of sand. She sighed before turning her attention towards the blue bucket she had previously placed in front of them.

"There was an extra bucket in the bag," she informed her older son, as Ran squirmed uncomfortably within her grasp. "Why don't you go fill it up?"

Makoto scrambled to his feet almost immediately. "Okay!" He wasted no time in snatching up the bucket and hurrying along towards the shore.

"Don't go too far, honey!" His mother called after his fleeting figure. "Make sure you stay where I can see you!"

* * *

The water felt cool, as it splashed up against his feet, a welcome contrast to the mid-afternoon's balmy heat. Makoto wiggled his toes in the water, loving the feel of it against his skin. Wanting to feel more, he walked further onto the shore, wading into the water until he was just about waist-deep. He brought his olive-coloured eyes upward to look towards the horizon, truly in awe of how expansive and magnificent the ocean was. An exhale, a quiet "wow", escaped through his lips, as his eyes took in the seemingly endless expanse of blue.

He felt ripples push and tug at him, as if trying to get his attention. Makoto looked down, watching with excitement as the moving water scattered shards of sunlight all around him. They extended further and further outward – and the boy felt an inexplicable desire to follow them.

Still holding the blue bucket, Makoto dove into the water and began to swim along this tiny part of the ocean, chasing the reflected light.

The sandy-haired boy absolutely loved swimming. It was one of his favourite pastimes, and he couldn't wait until his father would announce, "Everyone get ready! We're heading to the beach!" As silly as it may sound, sometimes – whenever he was swimming – he liked to pretend that he was a mighty humpback whale, the most majestic of all sea creatures. He would swim about, rising from the water and descending with an unearthly splash, commanding the water before him. He could probably—

Makoto froze, as he spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

On the other end of the beach, a fair distance away from him, he saw a rocky ledge jutting out from the ground, wedged slightly above the water. Perched atop this ledge was some sort of figure – a person, the young boy deduced. However, Makoto was still too far to get a proper look, so he brought one hand up from under the water to shield his eyes from the sun, and he peered onwards towards the strange figure.

But that was still not enough – he was still too far away. Gathering up every ounce of courage and curiosity within him, he began to swim closer to the ledge, his heartbeat hastening with each stroke. As he splished, splashed, and swam ever closer, he accidentally swallowed a bit of water – but sputtered for only a second before stopping several feet away, finally able to get a glimpse of this mysterious person that had captured his attention.

Makoto's eyes widened in genuine surprise at the boy sitting atop the ledge, who was staring back at him, apprehensively. Wet hair, as dark as a raven, clung to the sides of his face, and he was sitting amidst a hefty pile of what appeared to be fabric – Makoto wasn't sure. But whatever it might have been, it was fashioned in a rich, earthy brown, which seemed to catch the glimmer of the sun. The boy's body was bare, revealing his pale skin, and he held on, tightly, to the brown covering that pooled around him. It was seal skin, and it draped, languidly, over the bottom half of his body, but a foot was still exposed. The boy continued to stare at Makoto, who was starting to become a little uneasy, and all of a sudden, the water felt too cold.

"Uh..." Makoto stammered out, unsure of what to say. But the strange boy was still staring back at him, his sapphire blue eyes growing more intense, and Makoto had no choice but to continue. "I-I'm Tachibana Makoto," he spoke at last. "What's your name?"

The boy remained silent, his vivid eyes still scanning Makoto in the water in front of him. He watched the sandy-haired boy, carefully, his knuckles growing white from his taut grip upon his seal fur.

But then, in a voice as gentle as trickling water, he answered, "Haru."

"Haru..." Makoto breathed out the name, his gaze never once leaving the mysterious boy atop the ledge, whose eyes seemed as big and as blue as the ocean. He decided, right then and there, that was his favourite shade of blue. "I've never seen you around here before," he remarked, carefully, in a curious manner. "Where do you live?"

At those words, Makoto watched in amazement as the tension in Haru's body visibly softened. The boy relaxed his shoulders, and he began to slowly loosen his grip on the brown fur that he had been holding onto so tightly. An inviting glint danced about his sapphire eyes, and a tender smile brushed against his features.

"I live in the ocean," Haru replied. "It's my home."

* * *

"A boy that lives in the ocean?" His father did little to hide his skepticism, as he turned the key and started up the car. The sun had finally set on the last day of Makoto's summer vacation, and he and his family had piled into the mini-van, ready to head home and eat a well-deserved dinner. The twins had fallen asleep in their booster seats, exhausted from the sun and sand, and Makoto's mother had begun to dose off in her seat, as well. His father, on the other hand, was wide awake and somewhat taken aback by his son's sudden tale. "Makoto-chan, I think you might have swallowed a bit too much saltwater."

"But I really saw him, Dad!" The young boy protested. And indeed, he did. Makoto knew what he saw – and he promised Haru that he would come back and see him again.

* * *

Makoto was never one to break a promise; the boy was as honest as he was loyal, and even three years after the fact, he still kept to his word. Haru, too, had grown fond of the other boy's company, and he moved further and further away from the water's edge, closer and closer to Makoto. The two had developed a deep friendship and were nearly inseparable.

Strangely enough, however, his parents were still yet to meet this Haru, their son's "new best friend". So when he raced from his bedroom to the kitchen, fully dressed, with his schoolbag tucked under one arm – despite the fact that his middle school was not open during the weekend – his mother could not say that she was surprised. But she had started to become a little concerned.

She walked towards the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, and watched with a muted frown as her eldest son funneled snacks, furiously, into his open schoolbag. She paused for a moment before asking him, "Makoto-chan, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna go see my friend, Haru," he answered, not once stopping to look up. His movements were focused and hurried – where were the rice balls?

His mother's brow furrowed together in confusion. "Again?" She questioned him. "Honey, you just saw him—"

The woman barely got another word out, for her son had already slammed the fridge shut and was whizzing by her, towards the front door, a "See you later, Mom!" sounding after him.

Her unfinished sentence suspended itself in mid-air, and her eyes rested upon the open doorway, on the spot where she had last seen her son. "Yesterday," she whispered to no one in particular.

* * *

"Haru..."

Both teenagers were sat, leisurely, on a park bench, a quick pit stop on their way to the new arcade that had just opened up across the city. Frozen popsicles were their snacks of choice for the evening, keeping them refreshed and cool in the late summer weather. School had just started up again for the year, and Makoto and Haru were both freshmen at Iwatobi High. Makoto was especially excited to start high school, but he would admit, he wasn't too keen on his math class. He was convinced that his math teacher was from hell – like actually from hell, some undiscovered phylum where all the insane math teachers go to die. He couldn't have returned fast enough, as far as the olive-eyed teen was concerned.

His raven-haired friend was seated to his left, and at the mention of his name, he removed the popsicle from his mouth and turned his gaze beside him, towards Makoto. "Yeah?"

Makoto still had his popsicle in his mouth, and his gaze was trained upon the speeding cars, passersby, and weaving cyclists ahead of him. His eyes darted from one person, one object, to the next, the sights and sounds of the bustling city creating a dull hum in his ears, just quiet enough to allow him to hear his own thoughts.

As the seconds passed, he could feel Haru grow somewhat impatient next to him. Without having to look, he knew that the shorter male was giving him an intense, calculated stare – and something in his chest starts at how familiar he'd become with the other boy's mannerisms. He took his popsicle out of his mouth.

"I've been thinking..." Makoto trailed off again, his eyes lowering a little towards the grass at their feet.

Haru frowned at his friend's odd behaviour. "About what?"

The taller teen wasn't quite sure how to answer. It's just that – as he looked around at the people moving about, amusing themselves, and going about their daily business, he felt a little troubled. A bit out of place. The feeling prickled and itched against his skin, and he didn't know how to shake it. Something wasn't making sense.

Finally, he turned towards Haru – and the other boy was looking at him with a deeply worried expression. Those vivid sapphire eyes searched every corner of Makoto's face, desperately trying to figure out what had happened. Makoto felt a faint warmth sweep across his cheeks, truly touched by the boy's concern. But there was still one thing that he needed to know, and so he took a moment to gather his thoughts before uttering a word. "Haru," he began again. "Where did you come from? Like, where did you really come from?"

Truthfully, the raven-haired male was a little surprised and taken aback by Makoto's question, but those green eyes were looking back at him with such resolve that he had no other choice but to answer. "I told you before, Makoto," his words were reassuring and gentle, "I came from the ocean."

But somehow that answer wasn't enough for Makoto, and he let out an irritated groan. "But how?" His words carried more conviction, and his tone became even more frantic. "Who—" he grasped at words, thoughts, ideas "—what are you, Haru?"

Haru looked upon the taller boy, calmly, seemingly unfazed by his friend's demeanour. He simply smiled, his sapphire eyes glimmering with a promise. "I'm your friend," he told him.

* * *

They walked along the beach in a comfortable silence. Not a word was spoken between them - and there was no need. The only sounds that could be heard were the shuffling of their feet, sand sinking underneath their shoes, and the far off noises coming from the restless city. The smell of saltwater hung thick in the air about them.

It was nightfall, and the two teens were returning home after another day of school. Second year was proving to be a bit more challenging than their first, but they were determined to make the best of it. Makoto believed that, as long as Haru was there, he could do anything.

The sandy-haired boy turned his head to look beside him, towards his friend, and he could feel something swell in his chest. He held his breath for just a moment, watching as the breeze ruffled his hair; it shone darker than midnight against the paling light of the moon.

Makoto didn't know why, how, or when it all started - for all he knew, it might have always been this way. He couldn't really tell anymore. All he knew was that Haru had the most amazing eyes that he had ever seen, and lately, all he wanted to do was lose himself in them.

An affectionate smile lit up Makoto's face, but the other boy could not see it. He was engulfed, captured by the ocean - by his home. Haru stared at the shifting waters, longingly, a quiet sigh escaping his lips.

* * *

Despite how long he had known him, Makoto could never fully understand Haru's fascination with water; it was completely above his comprehension. The first time that Makoto had seen Haru swim, he was sure that he was witnessing something truly spectacular. It was as if he, himself, could control the element and bend it to his will. The sheer power and force that he exerted over it was breathtaking, and he merged with the water, taking on the form of something almost otherworldly. The water curved around his lithe body, embracing him – welcoming him home.

And once he would leave the water, with tiny droplets embedded upon his skin, he longed to return to it again. He would glance back at it, his heart heavy for the sway of the ripples and the crashing of the waves. The lure of the water was so enticing, so hypnotic, so—

"Haru!"

And in an instant, it was gone.

His gaze found the source of the high-pitched voice that had broken through his reverie: a girl with long mauve-coloured hair. He stared blankly at her for a moment, his mind in somewhat of a daze.

Ah, yes. How could he have forgotten?

He looked around at the other faces – there were three others – and recognized the young men of his swimming club at Iwatobi High. They were standing around the school's outdoor pool, huddled together in a quick debriefing. All of the boys regarded Haru with similar facial expressions, ranging from amused to something like "not again". He looked from Nagisa to Rei and, finally, to Makoto, who merely smiled that same knowing smile that always found a way to catch Haru off-guard. Those green eyes of his exuded such warmth, such tenderness – and it honestly frightened Haru just how deeply Makoto cared for him. It was all too much, sometimes, and Haru could never hold the other boy's gaze for too long. So he looked downwards, slightly - ignoring the blush rising to his cheeks - before looking up again towards an impatient Gou, who seemed just about ready to dismember him.

"Well, look who finally decided to join us!" Their club manager exclaimed in the most sarcastic tone she could muster. She then grinned at him, an impish glee in her eyes. "You may have amazing deltoid muscles, but sometimes, it'd be nice to see your face."

"Oh," Haru stammered, sheepishly, and briefly wondered how long he had been daydreaming. "Sorry, Gou."

But all was forgiven and forgotten, and Gou flashed him a bright smile before returning to address the small group of young men standing in front of her. They were all decked out in swimming gear, exposing their impressive physiques, and Gou struggled, with all of her might, to keep her eyes on their faces. "Now," she clasped her hands together, enthusiastically, "as I was saying..."

* * *

Matsuoka Gou was a force to be reckoned with. She may have been tiny, but the members of Iwatobi High's swimming club knew better than to underestimate her. And after having just one look at their new training regimen, they wouldn't dare do so again.

It was brutal, to say the absolute least. However, in Gou's mind, the daily training routines were completely justified. After all, the next tournament was fast approaching, and the young men are in their third year – which means, no slacking, so they've got to work, work, work!

The loudest protests came from Nagisa, who was then countered by Rei, and both of them had to be mediated by Makoto. Haru chose to opt out of their heated discussion, preferring not to get himself involved. Their voices continued to rise higher and higher above him, and the sounds slowly blurred into one another, becoming nearly indiscernible. And before long, Haru found his gaze drifting off again towards the pool.

Makoto had noticed this, as he so often did, and he directed his attention away from his squabbling teammates, towards the blue-eyed teen. The young man was lost in his thoughts, submerged deep into the waters ahead of him. There was something so beautiful about the way Haru looked upon the water; his aquiline features were so serene, and those sapphire blues lit up with a spark. Makoto's eyes descended further down the young man's face, stopping at Haru's parted lips, and he could almost feel the rush of breath that escaped them just then. A small part of him wished that he could.

* * *

"Are you happy here?" Makoto asked Haru the night before. It was just after midnight, and the winds were howling about, like beasts, outside of the window. Fortunately, the doors and windows of Haru's house were firmly shut, so as to not let them inside.

Haru's bed was nothing extravagant, but it was comfortable; and they lay there, Haru's head against Makoto's barren chest, catching their breaths in their shared heat. Their bodies were warm, a heated flush still lingering about their skin.

That night, they made love. Haru's legs were wrapped around Makoto's waist, strong thighs holding on tightly, bringing their bodies together with every thrust. Makoto kissed him deeply, swallowing the moans and gasps that seeped through the other boy's lips. He penetrated him with tongue and cock, Haru begging him to move faster, harder, deeper. They came with their faces buried into each others' necks, breath caught in their lungs, as they felt the other fall apart.

Their bodies sunk into the mattress, sated and boneless. When Haru could let go and Makoto could reach out for a nearby cloth, Makoto cleaned them up and tossed the cloth into some abandoned corner of the room before returning to the boy in his arms.

The two teens laid there on the bed, skin slick with sweat, Haru's body mostly on top of Makoto's. Haru could feel the other boy's fingers running through the raven strands of his hair, while he remained quiet, listening to the sounds of Makoto's hushed breath and heartbeat.

But when Haru didn't reply Makoto right away, the taller male felt something sharp and biting within his chest. Without willing it to do so, his heart rate quickened, and he felt an unwelcome tension overtake his jaw. Perhaps he already knew the answer...

Just then, the sheets strewn across the bed ruffled a bit, as Haru rose from his spot against Makoto's chest, and the other boy looked down into Makoto's darkened eyes.

Sapphire gems glistened above him – and Makoto still thinks it's the most amazing shade of blue he has ever seen. Surely Haru's eyes must have contained the entire ocean. They were a blue so vast and so deep, with secrets upon secrets swirling beneath the tranquil waters. They were so calming, and as he looked up into those eyes, he felt those gentle waves wash over him, relaxing and soothing him. He wanted nothing more than to drift away.

He then felt Haru's hand at his cheek, caressing it, trailing feather-light touches along the side of his face. A shiver seeped through his lips, and he reached up to take Haru's hand in his and squeezed it gently, holding it there as if to anchor himself. Haru leaned down and kissed him, and behind Makoto's eyes, there was a hurricane.

It was an ocean in a storm. Haru kissed him deeply, mouth open, hot and hungry. The sound in Makoto's ears might have been the howling wind outside or the rush of blood or both together; it was overpowering. He felt the other boy move to straddle his hips, and Makoto pulled him closer, as if to withstand the turbulent waves by the feel of the boy's skin or the press of his mouth.

"Haru," he breathed out, as a flash of lightning shot through the sky. He felt Haru's pace quicken, the other boy's hips grinding into his, until he could feel Haru's hardness, his readiness, thickly jutting against his own swelling cock.

Makoto felt powerless to it, defenseless, and he couldn't help but to succumb to the tide. The water engulfed him, and he felt himself sink further and further down, the tide too mighty and too powerful to endure.

Who was he to challenge the storm?

* * *

He opened his eyes once more, the amber light of the morning harsh against his vision. It's much too quiet in the house, and he doesn't want to be late for school.

So he bends to pick up his fallen schoolbag and heaves it onto his right shoulder. With nothing more to carry, he turns to leave.


End file.
